


something about the borderline

by MistressEast



Series: After Hours at Leblanc [5]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bondage, Breathplay, Choking, Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Forced Orgasm, Hair-pulling, M/M, Manhandling, Rape Roleplay, Rimming, Rough Sex, Soft Ending, Top Drop, Verbal Humiliation, bottom!Goro, do NOT disregard those tags, everything is consensual and planned beforehand, for a very brief second, top!Akira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressEast/pseuds/MistressEast
Summary: “S—stop!” Goro jerks away from him, disgust crawling over his skin, but Joker fists his hand in his hair and pushes his face harder against the floor.“Uh-uh—” he tuts, nosing under Goro’s jaw. “I said not to move.”“Do you think I’m just going to lie here and let you fuck with me?” Goro snarls.“Not exactly,” Joker hums, adjusting his weight over Goro’s hips, and Goro’s breath stutters in his lungs as he realizes that the man on top of him is hard. “I think you’re going to lie here and let mefuckyou.”
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Series: After Hours at Leblanc [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714768
Comments: 21
Kudos: 419





	something about the borderline

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ: please heed the tags. i'll put a non-explicit summary in the ending notes in case you need a little more help deciding if this is for you. but i'll say it clearly here: everything that happens in this fic is CONSENSUAL. the fic goes along with the roleplay but that's just a narrative thing. there is no real noncon in this fic. that's why i didn't use the archive tag for rape, but if you think i should, please lmk.
> 
> these are just getting more and more extreme >////< thank you all for your support and love for this series so far. it's very fun to stretch my smut writing skills. that being said, this one is pretty rough, ya'll. again, all you need to know about this au is that there are no personas but a lot of canon events still happened. Goro is a college student and Akira lives in a converted apartment above LeBlanc.
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

One of the steps on the staircase leading up the Akira’s attic apartment creaks. All of the steps creak to some degree, but one in particular about two-thirds of the way up squeals at a piercing, horror-movie frequency, so Akira and Goro are both in the habit of hopping over it.

It’s so second-nature for them to skip it that when Goro hears the distinctive, high-pitched shriek, he freezes, glancing up from his book to regard the closed apartment door.

It’s late, well past LeBlanc’s closing time, the street outside the closed curtains quiet and dark. Akira stepped out a few minutes ago on an errand, so Goro is alone in the dim attic, reading by the light of the bedside table. Logically, no one should be climbing the stairs. Even if Akira came back for some reason, he’d just skirt the squeaky step like always.

Slightly suspicious, Goro swings his legs off the bed and sets his book aside. The more muted creaks of the rest of the steps start filtering into the apartment, like whoever is outside paused at the loud noise before deciding to keep going. Strange. Akira wouldn’t be surprised by the sound.

Then someone knocks on the door. The subdued taps make Goro frown.

“Akira?” he calls, standing. “Is something wrong?”

Instead of answering or knocking again, whoever’s outside turns the knob and Goro tenses, realizing that he neglected to lock it after Akira left.

“Excuse me,” he starts, striding across the room as the door starts to swing open. “The café is closed and this isn’t—” he breaks off, drawing up short as a figure charges inside.

A dark hoodie, pulled low over his face obscures the man’s features and Goro barely has time to stumble backwards before the man is on him, grabbing him by the wrist.

“What—” Goro finds himself jerked forward and spun before his brain catches up to what’s happening, and by the time his instincts kick in, the stranger is reaching for his other wrist.

Goro jabs his elbow back, aiming right under the stranger’s ribs, but he dodges expertly and snags Goro’s arm, pinning it behind his back alongside his other one.

“What are you doing?” Goro shouts, wrenching at his caught wrists, heart hammering in his chest.

“You’ll see.” The stranger’s voice is low and quiet, murmured right into Goro’s ear as he presses against Goro from behind.

Fear spiking through him, Goro stamps hard on the stranger’s foot and feels him recoil with a hiss. He lurches away, managing to jerk one arm free, but the stranger surges forward, shoving him hard. Overbalancing, Goro slams into the floor and the stranger is on him instantly, recapturing his arm and pressing his chest against the wood.

Goro kicks out, clipping the stranger’s shin, but he pays no mind, sitting on the backs of Goro’s thighs to pin them and yanking Goro’s arms to fold behind him.

“Get off me!” Goro struggles, twisting his body, but the stranger’s grip is too strong, even using only one hand to keep Goro’s wrists together as he digs for something in the pocket of his hoodie.

Craning his neck, he watches in panicked disbelief as the stranger pulls out several zipties and makes quick work binding his bare arms together across his back.

Goro swears loudly, straining against the sharp plastic strips, and the stranger clicks his tongue. A hand on Goro’s head forces his cheek against the floor.

“Don’t struggle. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Shut up,” Goro spits, glaring furiously at the stranger in his periphery. His arms are completely immobile, his lower body pinned uselessly under the stranger’s weight, and his head is swimming, trying to parse what just happened. “Who the fuck are you?” he demands. “What do you want?”

The stranger clicks his tongue, stroking his thumb over Goro’s hairline almost affectionately. “I guess you could say I’m a fan of yours, Detective Prince-san.”

“ _What?”_

“You can call me Joker.” Joker’s sly smile is just visible under the shadow of his hood and Goro feels his stomach lurch.

“What do you want?” he snaps again, shifting against the floor in an attempt to get a better look at the stranger.

Joker leans over, his free hand grabbing Goro’s shoulder to keep him still, until Goro can feel him breathing into his ear. “I suppose I want what any fan wants,” he nearly purrs, before licking up the side of Goro’s face.

Goro freezes in horror, and Joker uses the chance to pull his head to the side and expose his neck, mouthing down the side of his throat.

“S—stop!” Goro jerks away from him, disgust crawling over his skin, but Joker fists his hand in his hair and pushes his face harder against the floor.

“Uh-uh—” he tuts, nosing under Goro’s jaw. “I said not to move.”

“Do you think I’m just going to lie here and let you fuck with me?” Goro snarls.

“Not exactly,” Joker hums, adjusting his weight over Goro’s hips, and Goro’s breath stutters in his lungs as he realizes that the man on top of him is hard. “I think you’re going to lie here and let me _fuck_ you.”

Goro’s pulse skyrockets, pounding in his ears. It’s just instinct to jerk his head back, knocking sharply into Joker’s forehead. The man reels, grunting, and Goro bucks up, sending Joker sprawling on the floor. Goro flips over and scrambles to get his feet under him, to get to the door and out—call for help—

Then a vicious fist in his hair is dragging him back, slamming him down on top of his bound arms, and he cries out as his shoulders wrench painfully. Another hand wraps around his throat, silencing him as an unyielding body wedges between his legs.

“You little—” Joker breaks off on a rough chuckle. “I knew you’d be a fighter.”

Goro glares up at him, teeth bared, and twists again, but Joker tightens his grip around his throat.

“I _love_ how spunky you are, but if you don’t want to get hurt, I suggest you cooperate.”

“Fuck off,” Goro rasps.

Joker’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “You’re so different from on TV.” He loosens his hand from Goro’s hair to trace down Goro’s chest. “But I knew that prim and proper schtick was all an act.”

Goro slides his bare feet against the ground, trying to find the leverage to buck Joker off. “You can’t do this,” he gasps. “My boyfriend will be back any minute—”

“Is that so?” Joker shifts his grip on Goro’s throat up, bracketing his jaw from underneath. “Then I hope he comes home in time to see me make a mess of you.”

“You—” before Goro can finish, his mouth is being pried open and Joker is pressing a dominating kiss to his parted lips. Goro squeaks, squirming against the solid body weighing him down, and Joker plunges his tongue past his teeth, licking into his mouth.

Goro screws his eyes shut. The fingers digging into the hinges of his jaw are keeping him from biting down, so all he can do is lie there and let Joker invade him. And it is an invasion—Joker kisses possessively, filling Goro’s head with his scent and taste, clean with the strangest hint of coffee, until Goro is dizzy from lack of oxygen.

When Joker pulls back, licking his lips like a contented cat, Goro sucks in a reedy breath, blinking away the spots in his vision. Joker doesn’t hesitate, using Goro’s dazedness to tuck his face into Goro’s neck and nip at the sensitive skin, trailing the hand not on Goro’s jaw down Goro’s abdomen, slipping under the hem of Goro’s t-shirt.

Goro writhes against the sensation of rough fingers skating over his hip and up his side, fingers twitching where they’re trapped against the floor.

“You’re so much prettier in person,” Joker says against his throat, flattening his hand around Goro’s waist. “I can’t wait to wreck you.” He grinds down and Goro flinches at the hard press of Joker’s erection against his groin, and even more at the answering heat that flashes through him.

“I’m going to kill you,” Goro hisses.

“Go ahead and try.” Joker sits up and moves his hand back around Goro’s throat, applying a steady, warning pressure. “I’ll throttle you unconscious if I have to.” His lips curl into a cold sneer. “But you won’t make me do that, right? This will be so much more fun if we’re both awake.”

Goro bares his teeth. “Fuck you.”

Joker chuckles. “If you say so.” He grinds down again, deliberately, and Goro is horrified to feel his own cock take interest, beginning to harden in his sweatpants alongside Joker’s insistent erection. “Oh—” Joker snickers, repeating the action. “So those protests are just talk.”

“No—stop—” An unwilling groan tears out of Goro’s throat as the heat pools more aggressively in his gut.

“Just lie back and enjoy it.” Joker pushes Goro’s shirt up, exposing his bare, heaving chest. Goro still can’t see his eyes, but he can feel the way Joker scans his flesh hungrily. “You’re gonna feel _really_ good soon.”

“How could this feel good?” Goro spits. “You’re _disgusting_. All I feel is sick.”

Joker smirks. “We’ll see.” With one hand clamped on Goro’s shoulder and the other holding Goro’s hip, preventing him from gaining any leverage, Joker lowers his head and latches his mouth around one of Goro’s nipples.

Sparks shoot down Goro’s spine as Joker teases the hardening nub with his teeth and he shudders, kicking out uselessly. His foot slams against the floor and Joker pauses, body tense between Goro’s thighs, breath hot against Goro’s chest, but Goro just plants both feet and curls his toes. Huffing out a chuckle, Joker switches sides, licking broadly over Goro’s other nipple, and Goro bites back a cry.

He jerks away from Joker’s biting mouth, but the grip on his body keeps him pinned. All he can do is squirm weakly against the little shocks of pleasure zipping through him, feeling himself growing harder and harder. With a last hard suck, Joker detaches and looms over him again, releasing his shoulder in favor of wrapping his hand back around Goro’s throat.

“There we go,” he purrs, skating his other hand down to cup roughly between Goro’s legs.

Goro jolts, sucking in a harsh breath as Joker presses against his aching length. “Stop—”

“Oh, but you don’t want that, do you? Not really.” With a wicked smile, Joker tugs Goro’s waistband down, exposing his flushed erection. “At least, _this_ doesn’t.” He curls spidery fingers around Goro’s cock and Goro swallows a moan. “Look at you. Already dripping.”

“Let—let go—” Goro’s legs tremble on either side of Joker and he can’t stop his hips from twitching instinctively into Joker’s grip.

“This was so much easier than I thought it’d be.” Joker closes his hand around the rigid length, pumping slowly. The heat gathering in Goro’s core ripples and he grits his teeth. “You said you have a boyfriend?”

At the mention of Akira, Goro turns his head to the side, squeezing his eyes shut as guilt crashes over him.

“Either he’s got you trained _really_ well, or he’s not satisfying you.” A thumb sweeps over Goro’s slit, pushing in just a little too hard, and Goro hisses. “Well? Which is it?”

“F—fuck off—”

“Come on. I’m just trying to make conversation.” Joker spreads the precum leaking from Goro’s tip down the rest of his length, working his hand up and down smoothly. “I’m very interested in the boyfriend of the famous Detective Prince. You never mentioned him on TV. What’s he like?”

“ _Hn—_ ”

“Have you been together long?”

Goro presses his cheek harder to the floor. “S—stop, don’t—”

“Does he fuck you like you need?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Goro snaps, eyes flying open to glare at the man on top of him. “Don’t talk about him!”

Teeth flash down at him from the darkness under Joker’s hood. “Why not? Ashamed?”

“You motherf—” Goro chokes on the rest of the word as Joker tightens the hand around his throat, cutting off his air.

“Because you should be.” Grinning, Joker strokes faster over Goro’s cock. “Letting another man make you come like this? What will your boyfriend think?”

Goro shudders helplessly, mouth open to draw in breath that doesn’t come, heat swirling through him with each motion of Joker’s hand. But even worse than the breathless swimming of his head is the scorching shame crawling up his throat as he feels a familiar tension in his muscles, stomach spasming and hips bucking up.

Joker lets out a harsh laugh. “Does he know that you’re such a _slut_?”

The whine coiling out of Goro’s chest gets trapped in his compressed throat, and Goro jerks, blinking stars out of his eyes. A breathless haze starts creeping over his thoughts, blocking everything but the tight warmth enveloping his cock.

“Can you even come like this?” Joker asks, voice almost lost to the pounding in Goro’s ears. “Without something in your ass?”

Heat floods through him and the tension unravels suddenly. Goro’s hips cant up as his traitorous body comes, spilling across his exposed stomach. His chest trembles, fighting to draw in an instinctive breath, but, distantly, Goro feels Joker dig his fingers harder into the sides of his neck, his other hand still pumping mercilessly. Goro can only twitch with aftershocks, eyes wide and staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

Only when Goro’s cock is completely spent does Joker let go, finally relaxing his grip on Goro’s throat, and Goro instantly drags in a thready breath, heart throbbing frantically.

“Good job, beautiful,” Joker croons, seizing Goro by the hips. He ducks down and, through the tingling fuzz suffusing his limbs, Goro feels a hot tongue against his abdomen, licking in long, purposeful swipes.

The hand around his throat is gone, and, dazedly, Goro thinks he should try to twist away again, but his muscles are useless, legs splayed and boneless against the floor, arms still trapped and numbing under his body, lungs struggling to inflate properly, and his head is spinning, the room tilting dizzyingly around him—

A rough hand in his hair pinches a bit of reality back into Goro’s floating brain, and another hand pries his slack jaw open. Once again, Joker’s tongue snakes past his teeth, and Goro feels something slick drip into his mouth. He swallows reflexively and Joker hums a pleased note, using his grip to angle Goro’s head and slide their tongues together.

When he pulls back, Goro is gasping again, lungs burning. Joker drags his hands down to Goro’s spread thighs and grabs both, squeezing deliberately. Swallowing roughly, Goro closes his shaking legs briefly around Joker’s waist.

“Perfect.”

Before Goro can gather himself, Joker is moving back, and Goro finds himself flipped carelessly onto his front. He blinks blearily, unable to fight back as Joker slots himself back between his legs. Fingers card through his hair, almost gently.

“Stay with me, princess.”

Goro takes a shuddering breath against the painful needles tickling up and down his bound arms, just before Joker grabs him by the hips and hikes him up onto his knees, forcing his back into an awkward slope, chest still on the floor. He can only groan hoarsely as Joker yanks his sweatpants down enough to get two hands on his ass, kneading harshly.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to this,” Joker says.

From this angle, Goro can barely see the dark figure in his periphery, and his stomach tosses unpleasantly. He turns his face into the floorboard beneath him, biting his lip when he feels hot breath against his hole.

“Eager, hm?” Joker asks. “You’re twitching here.”

The tongue against his rim is a shock and Goro jolts, toes curling. “Stop—!”

Joker just hooks his arms around Goro’s thighs from underneath, keeping him from twisting away, and licks again, pressing the flat of his tongue hard against the sensitive skin.

Goro’s face burns. With the residual pleasure of his forced orgasm still flickering through him, the warm, wet tongue working its way past his entrance is sending heat once again bleeding into his gut. “Please, stop—” he begs, eyes stinging.

Joker pulls back slightly. “You’re such a liar,” he mutters against Goro’s lower back, removing one of his arms, and Goro thinks he hears rustling. “You don’t want me to stop. You’re desperate for it.” A soft _snick_ reaches Goro’s ears. “So just give in.”

“You’re wrong, you’re—” Goro cuts off, freezing as something cool and wet pours over his entrance, dripping down his taint, and he presses his lips together as the sensation travels down to his balls and slowly-hardening cock.

Joker trails his fingers through the liquid, circling Goro’s rim before, without warning, plunging two fingers inside.

Goro shrieks, one leg kicking up, instinctively writhing away from the intrusion.

“Uh-uh—” Joker’s other hand lands on Goro’s head, fisting in his hair. “Try to keep it down. We don’t want to disturb the neighbors.” He spears his fingers deeper, scissoring carelessly, and Goro gasps. “This is what you needed, right?” Joker continues, probing with intention. “Guess that boyfriend of yours really does have you trained. You’re—already sucking my fingers in—”

A nudge against his sweet spot has Goro groaning, eyelids fluttering. Vaguely, he can feel his toenails scraping the coarse wood of the attic floor as his feet flex uselessly.

“See? Now we’re talking.” Joker brushes that spot again and the muscles in Goro’s stomach contract, sparks surging up his spine. “I told you you’d enjoy it.”

“No—” Goro pants, shivering. “I—I don’t, please—I can’t—”

Ignoring him, Joker works a third finger inside. The lube still running down his ass and legs keeps the pain at a minimum, but it’s still too much too fast, and when Joker deliberately spreads his fingers, the burn spears into Goro’s core, eliciting another hitched groan.

“Why?” he grits out, squeezing his eyes shut. “Why are—are you doing this?”

Joker hums, curling his fingers cruelly and spiking the heat again. “I told you—I’m a fan of yours.” He withdraws, and Goro feels his walls clench around nothing. “I see you on TV all the time, or I used to, back when you did that.” Goro hears the sound of a zipper sliding down, followed by the wet brush of skin on skin. “And I always imagined you like this—how you’d look all fucked out. You always act so—” something blunt prods Goro’s hole and a thrill of panic shoots through him, “—untouchable. But I just had this feeling—” Joker digs his fingers into Goro’s ass, spreading him obscenely, “—that underneath all that, you were just a cockhungry slut.” In one fluid motion, Joker pushes inside, sinking deep, and Goro keens brokenly, feeling his rim stretch around Joker’s girth. “And I guess I was right.”

“N—no—”

Joker snaps his hips forward, seating himself completely and punching all of the air out of Goro’s lungs. Stunned, Goro stares forward blankly, brain struggling to catch up to the sensations washing over him.

“Fuck—yes—” Joker grunts, grabbing at Goro’s hips to drag him as far onto his cock as possible. “It’s like you were made for this— _fuck_ —”

Goro can’t summon a response, all of his nerves alight with unwanted pleasure. Joker’s cock fits in all the right ways, and when he pulls out, he seems to drag against Goro’s prostate with unerring precision, like he’s done this a million times. A helpless mewl falls from Goro’s lips as Joker shoves forward again.

“Like that?” Joker curls his hands harder under Goro’s hips, blunt nails cutting into the skin. “Hm? Be honest with me, princess—better or worse than your boyfriend?”

“Fuck—you—” Goro chokes out, clenching as Joker grinds deliberately.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I—I can’t—” Goro’s mouth drops open with a low moan. He can’t even think about Akira right now, the image of his boyfriend twisting his stomach into knots.

“Alright, I guess I’ll let you off on that one.” Joker rocks out then back in, the slow, slick slide dripping more pleasure into the pool in Goro’s gut. “Since you look like you’re having so much fun.”

The noise that bubbles out of Goro’s chest is almost a sob.

“Yeah, I hear you. Let’s pick up the pace, princess.”

Goro feels Joker shuffling around behind him, still seated inside, and then his sweatpants are being stripped completely, leaving his legs free for Joker to nudge farther apart with his knees. A firm hand hooks under Goro’s bound arms, and before Goro can process what’s happening, his cheek is lifted off the floor as Joker jerks him up.

Hanging by his arms, shoulders protesting the unnatural angle, Goro’s cloudy gaze falls to his own spread thighs, pale skin bracketing Joker’s black-clad legs, and, above that, his cock, flushed and leaking onto the hardwood below, even as it struggles to fill out again. Then a hand tangled in his hair yanks his head up, bending his neck back painfully.

Joker pulls out tortuously, and Goro shudders as every inch of his length scrapes against his walls.

“You look so good on my cock,” Joker praises breathlessly. “So perfect for me.” He thrusts forward sharply, filling Goro to the hilt, and Goro spasms, letting out a strangled hiccup. “You feel it too, right?” Another hard thrust, another strained moan. “How well I fill you up?”

Goro swallows with effort, his throat bobbing under the taught skin of his neck, heat sparkling through his trembling muscles. The pain in his shoulders and knees, the sting of the zipties cutting into his arms, the tugging pressure on his scalp—it all compounds with the pleasure, coursing through him in a singular wave of heat.

“Everyone should see you like this,” Joker continues, muffled as though he’s gritting his teeth, pumping in and out with more vigor, barely giving Goro a second to breathe between long, stroking thrusts. “You’ve still got fans, you know? People who think—they know you—” He hitches Goro up higher, curving Goro’s spine dramatically, and Goro feels the brush of lips against his bared neck. The different angle shifts Joker’s cock inside him and Goro moans weakly. “They have no idea—” Joker growls, “—who you belong to.”

Trapped behind his back, Goro’s fingers curl fitfully, nails digging into his palms. “Don’t—” he sucks in a shaking breath, “—don’t—belong to—you—”

Joker chuckles roughly, the sound searing against Goro’s skin. “You can tell yourself that, but we both know—” he cants his hips with intention, pressing right into Goro’s sweet spot, and Goro jolts, vision blurring as his eyes roll up. “We were made for each other,” Joker purrs before sinking his teeth into the crook of Goro’s shoulder.

Goro jumps, tightening up instinctively, and Joker groans into the bite, bearing down until the pleasure swirling through Goro is briefly overcome by jagged, grinding pain. Through the rush, Goro feels Joker break skin, and he shudders, eyes wide.

Joker licks over the bite mark, grinding his hips in a cruel circle. “Now everyone will know you’re mine.”

A hard thrust knocks any rebuttal Goro might have made out of his head, replacing it with buzzing, stabbing heat.

Releasing Goro’s hair, Joker grabs at his arms with both hands, and Goro lets his head drop, staring vacantly at the floor. His neck is on fire, the burn clashing sickeningly with the rapid numbing of his shoulders, and as Joker resumes his thrusts, the horrible pleasure returns, all of it mixing together until Goro can’t _think_ though the haze—can’t do anything but take it, body swaying forward with each snap of Joker’s hips.

“Fuck—you feel so good—” Joker speeds up, spearing Goro open with each pump. “Should keep you like this—all to myself....wouldn’t that be better? You wouldn’t have to do anything—just stay open and wet for my cock—I’d take such good care of you, princess—”

Goro can barely make out Joker’s babble through the pounding in his ears. A particularly harsh thrust sends him pitching forward, and Joker yanks back, forcing Goro onto his length. Dimly, Goro realizes he’s drooling, mouth slack and eyes unfocused.

“Nobody else deserves you,” Joker hisses, fucking in and out ruthlessly. “Nobody else loves you the way I do, nobody else will ever _understand_ —” his voice cracks and he sucks in a sharp breath. “The thought of other people seeing you, even— _thinking_ about you, I can’t—” his fingers claw into Goro’s arms. “God _damn_ it—”

Suddenly, the world lurches, and Goro finds himself slammed back onto the floor, gaping soundlessly as the motion just drives Joker deeper. The hand is back in his hair, pushing his head down while the other scratches at his hip. His thighs shake violently, shoulders erupting in agony as they fall almost back into place, and the bite on his neck throbs dully.

Strained curses fall from Joker’s mouth, stuttering in time with his rhythm. Hunched over, fucking into Goro like an animal, Joker almost sounds desperate, invective fading into a wrecked litany of “Mine mine mine mine mine—”

The heat, rippling and sparking with each rough drag over his prostate, swells dizzyingly, and, when Joker slams home so deeply Goro feels it in his throat, it tips over, spilling through him in a blinding, consuming rush. His vision snaps out of focus, then darkens as his eyes roll back, and his muscles seize, toes curling, fingers locking up, spine going rigid. Merciless bolts of heat spike through his veins, compounding with every racing heartbeat.

Distantly, he hears Joker groan, feels the grip on his body tighten, but then everything vanishes in the tide of shrieking pleasure.

* * *

Floating in a warm, buzzing fog, Goro barely feels Akira pull out, but even the gentle contact against his raw, abused rim makes him gasp. Unable to support himself, he slumps, and Akira scoops an arm under him, lowering him to lie down properly on his side even as his body continues to twitch and shiver, out of his direct control. A fingertip brushes carefully against his cheek, and Goro blinks his eyes open at the realization that he’s crying.

“It’s alright,” Akira shushes, stroking over Goro’s cheekbone. “Don’t move. I’ve got you.”

Goro drags a halting breath past the tightness in his throat, letting his head rest against the floor. His vision is swimming with tears and the lingering disorientation of his climax, but he can blearily make out Akira reaching over him, snagging the scissors they left within easy reach.

Carefully, Akira works the scissors between Goro’s arms and the zip ties; Goro can feel the cool metal barely brushing his skin as Akira snips the plastic strips away. As soon as they’re gone, Akira helps him roll over onto his back, rubbing fretfully over his shoulders. Goro groans at the sensation of pinched nerves reigniting, twisted muscles shifting back into place. He’s _definitely_ going to be sore for the next few days. A deep ache throbs up his spine, centered on his hips, specifically his ass, and Goro sighs. Sore in lots of ways, it seems.

Akira works his fingers down Goro’s arms, one at a time, kneading gingerly as Goro gets his breath back into his rasping lungs. When the pins-and-needles have receded and Goro’s heart rate is no longer jumping all over the place, he opens his eyes to see Akira staring down at him, expression unreadable.

Clumsily, Goro raises a shaking hand, beckoning Akira closer. Akira bows immediately, still holding Goro’s other hand, and Goro threads his fingers into Akira’s wild curls, drawing him down the rest of the way and catching his mouth in a demanding kiss.

Akira opens his mouth eagerly, letting Goro slide their tongues together, and Goro tilts his head, probing as deep as Akira did earlier, before pulling back and nipping at Akira’s bottom lip. Akira makes a sharp, throaty noise, and then Goro feels himself being lifted, pulled into Akira’s lap as Akira wraps clutching arms around him. He snakes his own arm around Akira’s neck and meets him for another ardent, biting kiss.

This whole thing came about more or less naturally, the idea planted by errant comments in other scenes, an unintentionally rough hand here and there, until Goro broached the subject by asking Akira if he’d like to be even rougher. The hungry gleam in Akira’s eyes told him everything he needed to know.

It took some careful planning. Unlike their other roleplays, Goro was determined to play this one straight, which meant they had to work out nonverbal ways to communicate with each other. One deliberate squeeze with both hands = _Are you okay?_ Two kicks = _Give me a minute._ Three kicks = _Stop immediately._ And the like. This would be the most severe play they’d ever engaged in, and Akira devoted himself to making it as safe as possible. Goro, too, brushed up on his stage combat techniques. The trick to making violence look and feel authentic is for the victim to really sell it, after all.

Even though the physicality wasn’t as brutal as Goro made it seem, the choking and restraints were all real, and Goro still recalls the thrill that ran through him when Akira confessed he wanted to try breathplay. Theoretically, after everything Goro’s been through, the thought of someone controlling him like that shouldn’t be appealing, but Akira’s always been the exception.

Now, Akira traces soft fingertips over the tender skin of Goro’s throat, pulling back slightly to press a lingering, close-mouthed kiss to the corner of Goro’s lips, then his cheek, then the hinge of his jaw. Goro lets him trail kisses down his neck, savoring the warmth of Akira surrounding him. When Akira reaches the bite mark on his shoulder, a faint hiss escapes from behind his teeth, dull pain radiating outward.

“Sorry,” Akira murmurs, leaning back with a contrite grimace. “I really tore into you, huh?”

“I said you could.” Goro’s tongue feels heavy and slow, his throat dry, so the words come out hoarse. “You did great.”

Akira cards his fingers through Goro’s hair, sweeping it out of his face. “You too. I love you.”

Goro scratches his nails over Akira’s scalp. “I love you too.”

Akira’s brows pinch together. “I—I really—” he leans forward, tapping their foreheads together, and Goro can feel the slight tremor running through him, “—love you. I really love you, Goro.”

“I know, Akira,” Goro breathes into the sliver of space between them. “I know you do.”

Sucking in a ragged breath, Akira pulls Goro closer, burying his face in the unbitten crook of Goro’s neck. Goro keeps petting through his curls, bringing his other arm up to wrap around Akira’s shoulders as Akira clings to him.

“You were so good for me,” he whispers in Akira’s ear. “Everything was perfect. You didn’t do anything I didn’t want. You did such a good job, Akira—I could never trust anyone else the way I trust you—” he’s not even sure what he’s saying after a few sentences, praise and assurances falling mindlessly from his lips.

Akira holds him tighter, swaying slightly, and Goro feels his chest hitch.

“Shhh.” He smooths a hand down Akira’s spine. “It’s alright. You always take such good care of me. I love you so much.”

“—sorry—” Akira mutters, barely audible, tucked against Goro’s neck, “—I’m sorry, Goro, I’m—sorry—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Goro thought this might happen, or was prepared for it at least. He forces his leaden legs to move, sitting up slightly to shift his grip on Akira into something more secure, nosing at Akira’s temple. “I’m here, Akira—I’ve got you—”

He’s not sure how long they sit there, tangled on the floor, murmuring to each other. His head is still hazy, processing the post-climax high alongside the painful signals from his lower body and shoulders, but Goro pushes it all aside, focusing on his boyfriend shaking and mumbling in his arms. Slowly, the fine trembling eases, until Akira is panting against Goro’s throat, fingers flexing restlessly into the fabric of Goro’s shirt.

“Akira?” Goro asks softly. “You with me?”

Akira swallows noisily, and his hair tickles Goro’s jaw as he nods. “Sorry,” he croaks.

“Nothing to apologize for.” Goro presses his lips to Akira’s temple, humming low in his chest. “You’re perfect.”

“ _You’re_ perfect.”

“Also true.” Goro sighs, slumping against Akira again. “But right now I just feel gross.”

Akira straightens up. His eyes are red-rimmed but dry, full of characteristic intensity and staring down at Goro with his usual level of affection. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

By the time Akira is helping Goro step under the warm spray of the shower, Goro can feel spend leaking down his leg. He winces.

“What is it?” Akira asks, perking up at his expression.

Bracing sideways against the wall of the stall, Goro gestures to his ass. “Ugh—I can’t even reach back. My shoulders—”

“Just a second—” Akira starts wrestling out of his clothes. “I’ll be right there.”

Goro allows Akira to support him while they wash off, leaning against his boyfriend’s chest, head drooping onto Akira’s shoulder. More than once, Akira has to nudge him gently to keep him awake. When they get out, Akira bundles him in towels and sets him on the edge of the tub.

“Sit tight for two seconds. I’m going to go tidy up.”

With Akira out of the bathroom, Goro sinks into the fuzz blanketing his thoughts, enjoying how quiet his head is after a good fuck.

Akira returns, shirtless with pajama pants riding low on his hips, first aid kit and water bottle in hand. “Alright, let’s see the damage,” he says, passing the uncapped bottle to Goro.

Goro can’t see the bite mark, but it already feels swollen, and, based on Akira’s frown, he’s willing to bet it doesn’t look pretty. “You know how easily I bruise.”

Akira’s mouth twists to the side. “Yeah.”

Goro takes a sip of water, relishing the cool relief sliding down his raw throat. “Don’t worry—if it gets infected, I’ll make up something to tell Takemi.”

“Really?” Akira peels open a disinfectant wipe. “How will you explain an obviously human bite mark?”

“She knows I work with the police.” Goro presses his lips together at the sting as Akira gently swipes over the wound. “I’ll say a suspect did it.”

“She wouldn’t buy that.” Akira diligently cleans around the perimeter of the worst pain, grey eyes intent on his task. “After that time we fell off the bed, she put a pamphlet about safe BDSM in LeBlanc’s mailbox.”

Goro smirks around the rim of the bottle, remembering the incident. They weren’t even doing anything kinky, but Goro banged his head pretty hard against the floor and Akira busted his chin on the bedside table. Takemi had, indeed, listened to their excuses with an unimpressed scowl. It wasn’t the most awkward medical exam he’d ever had, but it was up there. “Even so, she doesn’t have to know the details.”

Akira reaches for an adhesive bandage, holds it up appraisingly, then selects a larger one. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t get infected,” he says, tearing it open.

“I’m sure it won’t.”

Smoothing the bandage into place over the aching bite, Akira lets his fingertips linger along Goro’s collarbone, eyes flicking between Goro’s face and his neck.

“Is it bruised?” Goro asks.

Akira bites his lip, tracing a line just under Goro’s Adam’s apple. “Starting to.”

Goro lifts the corner of his mouth in a tired smile. “Good thing I have the week off.” The college is closed, so Goro went ahead and took off work as well. Akira still has to work, but Sakura-san gave him the second half of the week. Goro’s not ashamed to admit he’s been looking forward to the uninterrupted time with his boyfriend. “It’s cooler outside now, so a turtleneck won’t be out of place.”

Akira packs up the kit and sets it aside, grabbing a clean towel from the basket. “Do you think you’ll still be up to going out on Friday?”

“Most likely.” Goro sets the water bottle aside and submits to Akira drying his hair. “I’ve felt worse after rock climbing sessions.”

Humming, Akira rubs gently at Goro’s scalp, bringing the towel down to wring the longest ends of Goro’s hair. “Alright,” he says after a minute, taking Goro’s hand. “Time for bed.”

After changing into a new pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, Goro is feeling pleasantly floaty, cross-legged on the bed in front of his boyfriend as Akira combs through his hair. Akira’s feathery touch sends little tingles down his spine, the steady rasp of the comb washing over him. The allure of sleep is strong, exhaustion tugging him down, but Goro resists, just for a little longer.

“Do you want to talk about how it went?” his voice is soft but it fills the dim, quiet attic.

Behind him, Akira falters for a brief second, then continues, working the comb through Goro’s damp hair. “Not right now,” he says honestly. “Tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Goro trusts that if something had really bothered Akira about the scene, Akira would tell him. Right now, they’re both tired, and the debrief can wait.

Another peaceful beat passes, before Akira sets the comb aside and scoots forward on the duvet, winding his arms around Goro’s waist. Goro allows himself to be pulled into the cradle of his boyfriend’s body, feeling the weight of Akira’s head against the nape of his neck. Pressed together like this, Akira’s heartbeat rocks through them both, tapping on Goro’s ribs from behind.

“I love you,” Akira murmurs. “Goro, I love you. I love you.”

Goro splays his hands on Akira’s arms, staring down at the duvet. “I know.”

“I love you. Thank you for trusting me.”

“You’re—” Goro blinks hard. “You’re the only one. Ever. Akira, I—”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Akira picks his head up and Goro feels lips against the back of his neck, deliberate and lingering. Turning in the circle of Akira’s arms, Goro catches his next kiss on the mouth, falling back onto the pillows when Akira pulls him.

Dissecting the scene can come later. Right now, as Akira brushes their noses together and runs his hands up his back, Goro knows, more than anything, that he’s safe.

**Author's Note:**

> the noncon is all roleplay but the scenario is played straight. Akira goes by "Joker" and he and Goro don't act like they know each other. Joker bursts into the attic and attacks Goro, binding his arms and pinning him to the floor. he chokes Goro intermittently, including while jerking him off, then has penetrative sex with Goro while he's still immobile. the whole thing is from Goro's POV and he "experiences" feelings of panic, fear, and shame throughout. after the scene is over, Akira experiences mild top drop and Goro comforts him. aftercare follows. it's stressful, but they're both into it and they have a good time.
> 
> take care of yourself and skip this if that sounds like too much <3
> 
> EDIT: zip ties are NOT a good choice of restraints for BDSM. this fic in general isn't a good guide to bdsm, but zip ties in particular are a bad idea.
> 
> if you have questions, please visit my [tumblr](https://mistresseast.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/MistressEast).


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